Whispers Through Time
by Restina Lovebug
Summary: Severus Snape has to travel back in time to prevent the world from becoming eradicated by the demon mage Voltimore. Little does he know he's walking straight into a trap.. Mpreg Crossover Angst
1. Chapter 1

An oldie.. This is a story I actually started writing back in 2002, and it took me over two years to finish. :P It's been hosted on the mpreg archive, but I recently discovered that the last chapters has gone missing from the site, and finally decided I would repost it here on my Fanfiction account.

Please keep in mind that this story is a few years old. :-)

**TITLE:** Whispers Through Time

**AUTHOR:** Restina Lovebug

**FANDOM:** Harry Potter/Robin Hood

**MAIN CHARACTER**: My favorite Potions Master, Severus Snape! :)

**PAIRING:** None

**SU****MMARY: **As a reckless archaeology-student unveils a secret hidden

for centuries an old evil escapes. A wizard has to travel back in

time to prevent the world from becoming eradicated by the demon mage

Voltimore. Little does he know he's walking straight into a trap...

**NOTES:**

**Dear Azrael:** Thank you SO much for letting me have a go at your

fabolous idea! :) Without you this story would never have been

written, and withouth your help and support I would have given up

long ago. I only hope the story ends up half as good as your original

idea, and that you feel I have managed to write some of what you

foresaw when you came up with it! I thank you yet again on bended

knee for helping me keep my sanity! :)

**Dear Keely Kylan:** Thank you for also being a tremendous support

during the writing of this story (which I never seem to finish, the

thing has a life of its own), your neverending positive and constructive feedback

leaves a spoilt but happy Restina, giggling madly as she sits down

and continues writing. And I can't wait for your scanner to start

working again so that I can have a look at the Sheriff you're drawing

for me! :)

**Dear Chienne:** Thank you so much for actually voulentering to going

through my grammar and spelling. I know tweeking my preeschool

English isn't a job for the faint hearted! ;)

**WARNING:** This will, to say the least, be angsty, and there will be a

rape later on in the story. (I'll put a BIG warning on that chapter

for them who don't stomach it)

** Whispers through time, chapter 1**

Curiosity killed the cat.

**~present~**  
Kent Hardington was a bright and skilled archaeology-student, who  
dreamt of one day finding the architectural finding of the decade.  
And it was thisdream and his eagerness that brought him to Nottingham  
Castle, famous from the Robin Hood legends. Forget it, his  
professor's said, there's nothing more to be found in that old castle  
that haven't been discovered years ago! But Kent didn't nudge. He  
wanted to search through the castle by himself, examine every  
millimeter and every dust-bunny to be sure he didn't miss one thing.

He was a thorough young man, and he went through every room, searched  
every single crack in stone or wood working his way slowly upwards  
towards the towers. After six weeks he hadn't found a single thing,  
and despair slowly started to creep its way inside his brain. He had  
finished most of the floors now, from the dungeons and up the halls  
and the many rooms, and therewere only one room and four towers left.  
He went ahead with the work on the small room, half expecting nothing  
would turn up here either. There was afireplace placed in the far  
corner of the room, which by the way, had no windows what so ever.  
This struck Kent as weird, given the fact that the left stonewall  
should be facing the Sherwood Forrest. A spark of excitement lit his  
mind and he started to examine the fireplace with renewed energy. He  
searched every crack, looking for a secret entrance or something  
showing there was a hidden room behind the fireplace. Suddenly he  
stopped for a moment, as his heartbeat increased and his hands  
started sweating. Beneath his fingers he could clearly feel an  
outline and curve that parted from the rest of the stone. If he  
wasn't very much mistaking he'd just found signs of a sealed room!!

Hardington got so excited he had trouble thinking straight. Finally  
all his hard work would pay off, finally he'd found what he'd been  
looking for! After scurrying around the room for a couple of minutes,  
gathering his wits and fantasizing wildly about the headlines in the  
newspapers he would make- he got his sledgehammer. Sure..  
Sledgehammers are seldom used in the art of archaeology, but Kent had  
no time for a toothbrush to do the same job. With one harsh blow to  
stonewalls the sledgehammer made way into an agent room, sealed for  
reasons unknown. As soon as the dust settled, Kent climbed through  
the big hole his vandalism just had been responsible for. Pulse  
thundering in his ears, excitement beyond anyone's imagination, he  
could see a room no one had seen for over eight hundred years. It was  
small and square and to Kent's disappointment seemed to contain only  
one object, a familyportrait. But this was a big discovery as well,  
and he curiously approached the painting with goosebumps creeping up  
his neck as his excitement grew once more.

Time, dust and cobwebs had worn on the painting through time, but  
Kent had no problem getting a glimpse of the people portrayed with  
his flashlight. There was a man sitting on a chair, the center of  
attention, a noble most definitely. He had dark hair and beard, dark  
eyes and dark,middle-aged-fashioned clothes. His face showed signs of  
pride, power and the spoiled look some children have. On his right  
side an old woman stood, probably his mother. She had a foul  
expression on her face, with what looked like an evil twitch in her  
eyes and a wart on her left cheek. On the man's left a fair woman  
stood, with what once had been long, reddish hair and bright green  
eyes. There was the typical smile of a woman who'd just fallen madly  
in love on her face. But the most odd detail with the painting was  
something the man was holding in his arms. It looked like a baby's  
body, probably the man's and the young woman's son or daughter, but  
the baby's face was missing. It was like it had been scraped off, or  
weirder- never been painted on..

"Fascinating!" Kent mumbled as he went from studying the painting and  
over to the frame withholding it. It struck him that the frame seemed  
somehow misplaced, like it didn't fit the painting it was  
surrounding. It was a wooden frame, painted black, worn down by the  
tooth of time, but there was no mistake, he could clearly see the  
outline of inscribed letters, once decorated with gold. Kent frowned  
as he tried to make out the letters.

"It seems to be some sort of Latin.." he muttered to him self as he  
carefully brushed the dust away with a small brush he kept in his  
vest pocket. He had skipped a lot of Latin-lessons in his days, and  
he regretted every single one of them now. But slowly he worked his  
way through the text, mumbling his narration as he went along: "A  
beast kept prisoned between these four walls, your doom you're  
uttering with saying these very words. I'm afraid to tell, my unlucky  
soul, you're heart will beat no more." A whoosh went through the  
stone-room as the last word escaped his mouth.

"What the..." Kent started, but he never finished. A cold chill went  
down his spine, as every part of flesh was devoured from his body in  
an instant. Kent made the newspapers, although not in the way he had  
intended...

*-*

Black night, dangerously dark. The perfect hiding place for evil on  
the run. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwart's school of wizardry  
awoke with a start. He felt a shift, a great trembling through the  
earth- something evil had escaped, something foul and terrible with a  
burning hate. He didn't know this evilness, but he recognized its  
stench. A dark demon that had been locked away for centuries- and  
that for a good reason. Albus had a bad feeling about this, he  
definitely had.

*-*

The muggle newspapers were running over with the story about the  
secret room found in Nottingham Castle. A corpse, or more precisely  
the skeleton of a reckless archaeology-student who'd been a bit to  
eager with his sledge had been found in front of an old family  
portrait, never seen before. The find amazed archaeology's all over  
the world, as this was the first preserved and only family portrait  
found of the people once living in this old castle. Maybe the legend  
of Robin Hood finally would be explained one way or another, once and  
for all. Some of the papers flooded over with the rumors about there  
being something evil kept hidden inside that room. The very same  
night the young man died a most mysterious death, apparently self-  
combusting like a torch, a terrible storm raged through the  
countryside, leaving many broken homes, and the Loxley mausoleum,  
vandalized beyond in the village where whispering  
about an old evil escaping, something that had been trapped for  
centuries.

No reasonable archaeologist with a minimum of brain function would of  
course believe such nonsense. A simple case of many incidents, a  
lightning striking the young lad maybe, and some punks fazed out on  
some drug vandalizing the mausoleum. The storm was just a fact of  
weather. No one stopped to bother about Kent Hardington being struck  
down by lighting in a room without entrances besides a hole in the  
wall...

A group of experts were chosen, solely to investigate further the old  
Nottingham castle. Maybe there were other treasures hidden within  
these Stonewalls. And once again the castle was searched, from  
dungeon to rooftop, leaving nothing behind unsorted. Five weeks with  
thorough investigation took place, nothing was found. But then, on  
the first day of the sixth week- another archaeologist found signs of  
a sealed room. The group was ecstatic. Who knew what was hiding  
behind these walls. The villagers were afraid. There probably was  
more evil waiting to escape its stone prison. Many fled their ruined  
homes to be sure they wouldn't be haunted once more. Unspeakable  
things where happening in the Sherwood Forrest, and no good could  
come of luring more of this evilness into the daylight.

*-*

Even the replacements of the young unfortunate Mr. Hardington felt  
the urge to break through the wall to get to the secret treasures as  
fast as possible. But many years in the trade had taught them  
patience, and they bid their time carefully so they wouldn't disturb  
or destroy anything but cobwebs. Archaeology is a delicate art and  
these men knew that, by breaking through with force they could end up  
destroying the very thing they were looking for.

Finally, two weeks later the first glimpse of the second secret room  
was reviled. They succeeded in removing one of the many stones gluing  
the many castle walls together and now they with some difficulty  
could look into a room no one had seen for over eight hundred years.  
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to claim that these grown men were  
just as euphoric as the young Mr. Hardington had been when he got his  
first glimpse of the hidden room he found. The temptation to break  
through the walls and give a big gaze about everything that was  
called etiquette and moral codes of archaeology made every single one  
of the ten expert members of the specially elected team sweat on  
their palms in mere impatience. Still, they managed to keep their  
patience..

*-*

Far away in the precise time the archaeology's got their first  
glimpse of the hidden room an old wizard having an after dinner nap  
suddenly drifted into a dream. In a heartbeat he stood besides the  
sweating men who were peeping through the tiny crack in the wall.  
Albus watched them with great curiosity. Muggles were a fascinating  
kind of folk and he never got tired of looking on their many weird  
habits. But something called him on, something through this very hole  
these men were trying hard to look through. Albus, knowing this was a  
dream went straight through the wall. It was a room covered in dust  
and untold secrets. The old man looked around noting a bed, a desk,  
cupboards and in a corner by a fireplace- a crib. Could this be the  
living-quarters of a nanny? No. Why would anyone try to hide a  
nanny's room for all eternity? He went closer, surprised to find  
chemicals... and even Astronomy equipment. This were things that  
didn't belong here, not to the decade this was supposed to be from.

Some artifacts, parchments and clothes lay scattered around the floor  
like someone had been plummeting through the room in a rage. Albus  
picked up the remains of a black cloak. A tingling sensation of  
recognition whispered somewhere in the back of his head as he lay it  
carefully back down again. He wandered over to the crib. It looked  
untouched, like it had never been used, but was just about to when  
faith had decided different and left it unused for all the future. A  
strange sensation dragged him towards the desk again and he found  
himself pulling out one of the desk drawers. There, practically  
unsoiled by time a small charcoal portrait caught his attention.  
No... it couldn't be! The face, so familiar! Together with the cloak,  
the chemicals, the Astronomy equipment.. and not to mention the crib!  
Albus Dumbledore stood aghast, not believing his very eyes. For once  
he prayed his sight had betrayed him, but he looked at the drawing  
once more, knowing he would have to change a man's life forever.

*-*

A sensation! The archaeologist's had no words to describe the  
findings they had done. The room and its contents were practically  
unharmed, and what secrets it contained! They were over themselves  
with praise over what they believed had to be the finding of the  
decade! They had found objects that wasn't even supposed to be there,  
star-maps that shouldn't have been drawn before tree hundred years  
later, chemistry equipment and chemicals that was invented many years  
later and even Astronomy- equipment no one could explain how got  
there. But a carbon testing showed that everything the room contained  
was over eight hundred years old, that this was an authentic find  
which no one had been trampling with. And in the desk drawer a  
charcoal portrait of an unknown but striking Saxon, caught everyone's  
attention. He had a very distinct being shining through even this old  
paper. The drawing was drawn in the same style as a certain famous  
portrait, of the Mona man also had that posture. His eyes  
seemed distant, maybe it was hundreds of years old chalk that did it,  
but the most striking detail with this picture was not the man's  
face.. but his stomach. The easiest way to describe it would be to  
resemble it with a woman's stomach, heavy with child. And the way the  
man had his arm wrapped around his belly, as if he was protecting it  
from something made all archaeologists think of their wives when they  
were pregnant. This was what they looked like. Many questions arose  
around this man. Who was the secret guest, how come he Was in  
position of objects not even invented in the time he would have  
lived in, why was his room to be sealed up for all eternity? And what  
about the old legends of Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham?  
Was there more to them than just a story?

Especially one of the ensemble of great brains and dust busters, a  
Mr. Norman Wellington, got especially fascinated by the possible  
connection between the findings and the legend. Could it possibly be  
the Sheriff of Nottingham portrayed on the family portrait, and the  
fair maiden- could that be Maid Marion? But that didn't make sense  
with the legend- Marion wed Robin of Loxley, not the Sheriff, or at  
least according to the stories. Could it be possible Robin never got  
to break off the wedding and the Sheriff actually got to wed Marion?  
The baby on the painting would therefore be the so desperately needed  
child the Sheriff wanted, so he could claim the throne. Maybe a soft  
heart many centuries ago decided this end of the saga was too sad an  
ending and changed it? And where did the mystery guest fit in the  
picture? It was easy to see that the man had a striking resemblance  
with the man on the portrait, but this man had no beard and his hair  
was shorter and arranged differently. And his expression didn't look  
close to the nobleman's. The aura of power and childish spoil had no  
traces in this man's face. This man had a look of no fear on his  
face, a chillingly cold appearance looking like it was pasted on to  
hide different feelings. And his eyes... somehow Norman Wellington  
got sad just looking at them. Somehow the charcoal drawing seemed to  
have captured an enormous loneliness.

Sure anybody could point out the obvious similarities between the two  
and claim they were the one and same person, but Norman didn't think  
so. It was two different persons captured in time by one or two  
skilled artists. Maybe the stranger was the noble man's brother, but  
Norman doubted it. The noble man had clothes typical for a wealthy  
man in the Middle-aged, while the other of what Norman could make out  
of it, had clothes that didn't fit in that time-period at all. Just  
like the clothes they had found in the secret chamber. It was like..  
this man had dropped in on a visit...from the future..

*-*

Albus Dumbledore was in a grave mood. He'd just heard the reports  
from the Sherwood Forrest and they were not good. Indeed there was a  
Demon Mage on the loose, and that wasn't even the worst of it. For  
this demon had a name. A foul, death-bringing name that had been  
whispered on the lips of terrified mortals some eight-nine hundred  
years ago. Voltimore. The essence of pure evil, the demon form of a  
wizard that terrorized the world in the beginning of time,  
Voldemort's forefather. Albus slammed a stunned hand down into his  
work desk, too grieved by this news to think of any more constructive  
manner to react. He remembered his dream a couple of days ago only  
too well. He had hoped for the longest that he wouldn't have to do  
what he'd guessed back then, but now it seemed damn well impossible.  
He would have to send an unknowing man back in time to do his  
bidding..

*-*

~past~  
Muggle history and romantic legends are all founded on some  
truths...no matter how hidden that truth may be. And everyone knew  
the legend of The Robin of The Hood. The fight between good and bad,  
how light and justice prevailed. But the real stories' are never  
that simple. Things get forgotten through history, details that  
don't fit in or don't seem suitable to tell small children, or grown  
ups as well, is left out. The legend ends but a shadow of the true  
story, and that is in many cases just as well. For the truth can be  
scaring and not to say the least, sad...

Up in the tower of a castle beside the Sherwood Forrest centuries ago  
a dark, an ageing witch was visited by a dark guest. This witch was  
the Sheriff's mother. She'd been scrying for months, trying to find  
out various paths for her son to gain the crown. Having already  
bewitched a noble lord, married him and produced an heir some 35  
years earlier. Oh, she was proud of her son! Tall, dark and cultured  
to a great extent he was, sane he wasn't. The blood of the witch was  
cursed and like all her family he inherited a dual personality,  
childlike arrogant spoilt and violent even for a feudal lord. The  
flip-side, a dutiful son of an aged and often infirm mother, he was  
the last of an old and noble bloodline, a learned man of books and  
arcane law, trusted servant of the crown. She would do anything to  
secure her son's future, anything.

The easiest way to secure his path to the throne was for him to marry  
someone with royal blood and produce an heir. Here the old witch had  
picked the perfect specimen years ago, namely the sweet maiden  
Marion. But there was one problem. Since her son was kicked in a  
strategic place in his youth he could no longer produce any  
offspring. And sadly he needed to be the father of a child with royal  
blood to claim the throne. Sure he could marry her, but there was a  
law specifying that an heir would have to be produced the first two  
years of their marriage, this to secure the line of Kings. And with  
no more action in some of his lower regions he would have a serious  
problem when the two years had passed.

*-*

At this late night there was something out on the search. It had a  
name feared by mortals and it left only destruction in its path. It  
had a great desire and a great need. It wanted to take human form  
again. To do this it needed an agent artifact, which had been passed  
from generation to the next for centuries. The only problem was that  
one couldn't TAKE this artifact from whom which it belonged, it had  
to be given to you. But as he arrived his destination place Voltimore  
couldn't believe his luck. He felt the need and greed the old witch  
harvested and knew it would be the easiest thing in the world to have  
her giving the artifact to him. It amused him she wasn't scared as he  
entered her chamber. She looked like she was disturbed in an  
important task and wanted to throw the dark shadow out the room.

"What do you want!" there was no trace of fear on her face, and the  
Demon started to feel a bit agitated. She could at least show him  
some respect, the old hack!

"Show me the respect I deserve and demand, and I may provide you with  
the offer of your lifetime!" he roared and made all the objects in  
the room, including the old witch fly scrambling into the wall. Yes,  
there was the right look! If the Demon could have smiled he would.  
Instead he settled for a subtle neigh. "I think I've got your  
attention, good! Now I can offer my services to you, in exchange of  
the proper payment of course.."

"And what services is it that you may offer, my Dark Lord?" The old  
woman made some sort of bow and approached him cautiously.

"I can help you provide the heir that will secure your son's right  
place as king." The expression on the witch' face went from fright to  
pure joy:

"My Lord, are you telling the truth? If you can grant this old dying  
witch her last wish I would give you anything in return!"

"Oh, the price is but mere pocket-change, my fair Lady!" the dark  
shadow exclaimed while he sniggered silently: "All I want in exchange  
is a small worthless stone inherited down generations of your family.  
The old witch' hand absentmindedly rested on her chest where she  
carried an ornament she'd inherited from her mother. It was a  
cherished belonging to her as this was the only thing her mother left  
her before being burnt on the stake for witchcraft. It was a simple  
silver chain with some sort of rock attached to it, not pretty in any  
terms of beauty, but dear just the same. But this would secure her  
dear son the future she wished for with all her heart.

"And how is it precisely you're going to produce this heir?" she  
asked suspiciously. "My son don't have the ability to produce any  
offspring by him self."

"You're right," the shifting shadow answered: "and that's why I've  
found you a direct descendant matching your son's flesh almost to the  
full." The witch thought about this for a minute.

"But that still don't help with the Maiden Marion and my son wedding  
her," she argued.

"Well, that's the genius of this plan! You see, I can make sure your  
offspring is born, and that the fair Marion is the mother without  
even having her touching the man fathering your son's heir. Sure it's  
a bit intricate, but I assure you it will work!"

"And how are you supposed to put this man's semen into her womb?" the  
witch continued.

"Who said anything about impregnating HER?!" the demon answered  
curtly. The old witch looked like a question mark.

"I said I would provide a man who is a direct descendant of your  
bloodline, didn't I? And this man will also carry forth the very  
offspring that your son is in need of. When the child is born a  
simple blood scan will assure Marion is the mother, and she will have  
no choice but to marry your son even spite the fact that she has not  
carried this child to term. The facts don't lie and even when she  
denies all knowledge of this child she will have to obey the laws  
stating she will have to marry the father unless she wants the child,  
and her self most importantly, to become outcasts. The child's father  
in this matter will be the stranger. But he will be such a close  
match to your son a blood scan will state him to be the father."  
Tears actually appeared in the old witch' eyes. Finally the solution  
she'd been waiting for, offered to her by this... dark demon in  
exchange for a simple stone. There were only two more questions to be  
answered before she gave her answer:

"Who is this man, and how are you to get him here, through time?"

"The time travel will be simple," the demon answered: "And his name  
is.. Severus Snape."

*-*

The Demon Mage instructed the old witch of what she would do.  
Voltimore knew that this Snape was a powerful wizard and alchemist in  
the future and that he would be more than happy to get his hands on  
the artifact that could threaten the course of the world if Voltimore  
got his hands on it first. It was a pleasant thing, being able to  
look into the future, but the skill was cursed with the fact that he  
could not determine his own future or faith. Therefore Voltimore had  
no idea that some eight hundred years later he would escape  
prisonment, and that the wizard society would search for the very  
stone he was so much in need of. The other curse that cramped his  
style was the fact that he wasn't capable of time travels himself.  
Therefore he had to use this old woman's lust for her son achieving  
the throne to secure the stone he so desperately needed. She had to  
contact the wizard through a dream, offering him the artifact in  
exchange for knowledge of the Dark Arts of Magic. If he did her  
bidding for one month, teaching her potions and curses, to show her  
the future and train her son in the arts of statesmanship restraint  
and deception, the artifact the demon desired would be given to him  
and him alone. Or at least, that was what he would think..

From the moment the man stepped through the time-barrier he would be  
cursed with Voltimore's curse that would leave him weakened  
and ...pregnant with the unknowing Marion's child. By the time he  
realized he had been lured into a trap it would be too late. Now the  
witch was old, but she was not stupid. When she accepted this deal  
she also made it perfectly clear that she would not give the artifact  
away before the child, a boy, was born and her son's future was  
ensured. Voltimore accepted the terms, after all he had learned the  
skill of patience the last hundred years and so he would go into  
hiding again after he'd marked the unfortunate man with the curse.  
This was a skilled man in the Dark Arts and Voltimore knew he had to  
make some adjustments to him as he passed the time portal. He didn't  
want any slip-ups this time!


	2. Mirror Images

**Cha****pter 2 - Mirror images**

~present-past~

Severus Snape seldom got bothered with dreams. After years as a death eater for Voldemort and secret spy for Dumbledore he'd experienced enough to make any normal man go insane. Two years had passed since the Great War in which Voldemort finally died a painful death.  
Severus hid his betrayal well, but when his master gave him the order to kill Harry Potter he'd flinched, for just a second, but that was enough. With a rage beyond anything Severus had ever witnessed, the betrayed launched him self at him with one thing in mind, killing him. And Severus would have died. Beyond any doubt a most excruciating death, worse than any crucatius curse. From nowhere his savior appeared, a tiny second before Severus' heart would stop beating and he would stop drawing breath. The Avada Kedavra claimed the war's last victim, the life of the dark lord Voldemort himself.

Blinded by pain Severus couldn't see who it was that had saved him at first, but he could recognize the voice any day.

"Are you alright, professor Snape?" So it was that he once again would be saved by one in the Potter-line of heroes, damn them and their courage!

Yes, Severus seldom dreamt at night. But that didn't mean his rest was peaceful and blessed. His old days as a death eater came back to haunt him in his sleep, denying him to forget all the lives he'd ruined, all the pain he'd caused and all the pain caused to him.  
There was a dark scar on his soul and it burned every night denying him to let go of the past. He was a cursed man, cursed by his past and his memories. No wonder he behaved the way he did, he knew no other way. But on this peculiar night his mind escaped the old nightmares. He'd never had any clairvoyant experiences in his life, the only skills he had when it came to guessing the future was reading the stars on the night sky. But this had nothing to do with the future, this was a call from the past. His resting mind was approached by a witch from the past, and how odd this felt he instantly knew it to be true. It was a pitiful creature, lurking in the shadows, and she had an offer to make.

The next day he went to the headmaster's office, feeling pretty excited for a change. Finally he would have the chance to do something good and decent! He'd seen the strain Albus was under for the time being and knew of the Demon Mage, Voltimore, terrorizing the Sherwood Forrest. He knew the headmaster had been searching for the owner of a certain artifact the last couple of days with no effect.  
It seemed the object had got lost somewhere along time.. And now this perfect opportunity had presented it self for him to go back in time to fetch the thing. Sure, he was a suspicious man, and the opportunity of which he'd received the offer was almost to well timed, but the witch had claimed she had a feeling he was in great need of this very object and mentioned nothing about Voltimore.

Besides, it was an offer he couldn't allow himself to be too suspicious to. He wanted to remove the anxiety causing the headmaster's worries and this was the way to do it. Voltimore would be hard enough to fight without the stone, but with it he would be damn near invulnerable and immortal. Little did Severus know Voltimore wasn't the cause of Albus' worries, there was something else...

*-*

Albus Dumbledore hadn't slept for 48 hours. He didn't dare to fall asleep for the time being, afraid the omens might haunt him again. He had played with the idea of denying Severus to do this, but he knew now he no longer had any choice but to let the Potions Master do what he in ten minutes time would be bursting through the door to tell that he was doing. And he knew that if he told Severus what he knew- he probably wouldn't go. But that couldn't be. No matter how Albus turned and twisted the facts- he knew he had to let Severus go. If Albus stepped in and interfered with Severus' faith things that should happen wouldn't, and the world might very well face doom.

Severus arrived at time, his pale face lightened with eagerness one seldom saw on this man. He had the look of a child that have a secret he knows will bring great joy when it tells its father.

"Severus, child! I'm so glad to see you! Come, sit down." Despite his worries Albus still had the ability to smile, although not as brightly as usual. Severus whooshed over to the nearest chair and sat down.

"I have great news, Headmaster! The artifact, I know where to get it!" He actually smiled! Albus' heart bled within.

"Really?" he answered and tried to looked amazed: "How, where"  
Severus was a man known for his patience and his calmness, but now he seemed to have trouble sitting still.

"Last night, I had a dream from the past. A witch offered it to me in exchange for some favors. I've been thinking it through, of course,  
and I really think I shouldn't let this chance go by me."

"But what if it is some sort of set-up?" Albus argued, he couldn't let Severus off to easy, he would smell it if he tried to hide something from him too openly.

"I've checked the witch' story out and it seems believable enough.

She did own the artifact till her death, in fact she's the last known owner of it. And if I should stumble into some devious trap I'm grown enough to take care of my self!" The headmaster looked at him with big sorrowful eyes:

"Are you really sure you want to do this?" Severus was dead calm,  
there were no trace of worry or anxiety in his features as he answered:

"Yes."

"Very well then. I trust you to bring the artifact and your self back in one piece, while I go to Sherwood and try to keep nasty old Voltimore occupied." Albus hesitated a moment before he continued:

"When will you leave and how long will you be away?"

"For one month," Severus answered as he got to his feet: "And I'll be leaving tonight, it's a full moon and the perfect opportunity to cast a time-portal. Albus rose to his feet and pulled the younger closer to a harsh hug.

"Good luck, child," he said, while fighting the tears threatening to betray his calm features: "And please remember, you're always in my thoughts!"

"Albus, I'll only be gone for a month. It's not like I'm going off to die or anything!" Severus answered a tad agitated. He had never grown used with the comfort an embrace can give, quite frankly he found them rather scaring, especially when it was Albus that was handing them out.

"I know, I'm sorry! I'm acting like such a wuss!" the headmaster said and smiled. He showed Severus his way out and thereby returned to his desk, graver than ever.

Please let him off easy, please! his mind repeated over and over again.

*-*

Severus had a lot of things to prepare for the upcoming night. He had to pack, and on the top of his head he knew he would be needing a traveling chemistry kit and the most useful ingredients for making good, working potions with all the finesse an old witch from the dark ages could desire. He also needed some spare robes and cloaks, clothes and a good astronomy kit. Last but not least he would need a good pile of parchments and drafts, and maybe a small cauldron to be on the safe side. He was so lost in his thoughts as he strolled down the hallway he didn't notice Harry Potter before he bumped into him.

"Potter! Would you mind walking in the way of somebody else?! I do not have the time to stumble over boys which minds are too preoccupied to pay attention to where they are going! Sometimes I really wonder whom you and all Potters are descending from!" he spat out and continued down the hall with billowing robes before Harry even had the chance to reply.

The night came and Severus was ready. He had packed all the belongings he needed in a small magical purse, which could contain the same as a big muggle-trunk. A small chill went down his back as the moon appeared from black and blue clouds, it was time. He had to cast a particularly hard and mind-draining spell to open a gate through time, and he needed the person on the other side's awareness of his coming. He closed his eyes as he uttered the spell, using all his energy and power, while he made a circle movement with his wand.

A bright shining light made him open his eyes again and there he saw the portal. It was shaped like a big hole covered with a mass resembling the shining surface of a soap-bubble. He had never traveled through time before and he was curious how the experience would affect his body. He'd read somewhere that all you would feel stepping through a time-portal was a tingling sensation down your back, and sometimes from under your feet. If that was all there would be nothing to it!

He held his breath and entered the portal. A small whoosh went by his ears, and a sudden weakness struck his body as he went through the barrier. He felt the presence of something, and this something seemed to strip his mind of his natural abilities. Severus felt weak and vulnerable as he stumbled into the dimly lit courtyard. He didn't need magic to know that he was being watched, it was not a pleasant feeling. And as he stood there, struggling with a strange kind of queasiness he reached out for his wand and discovered it was missing.  
That was a detail he hadn't expected... Pulling back the cowl he wore, he shouted out:

"Show yourself!" and the witch did.

*-*

To find yourself staring into the beardless face of your only living son, even for a witch can be a shock. Only this wasn't her son, this was her blood but not her son. In fact the man standing in front of her was everything her son wasn't, she could feel the magic surrounding him ... like the blood running through his veins... rich and deep like a fine wine. She knew that the demon had made sure of him passing through the gate without his wand and that it had dampened his natural abilities so that he would be easier to handle the following months. And there, within him her son's future son had just been created by a single curse from her dark friend.

In those few terrible seconds of silence that seemed to last and last, she felt a terrible urge to devour and tear the flesh of the being standing in front of her. She wanted to bite into that pale neck and suck the blood, drink it bathe in it.. and suddenly just as quickly the urge passed.

*-*

Severus felt it, the ripple as it went over him and the old witch, he'd been cursed as he stepped through the void. In front of him this old witch stared at him like she was seeing a ghost, and Severus didn't like it one bit. She was a miserable old thing, foul looking and withered.

"What are you hiding from me, old woman!" he said and wrapped his arms around his chest. The witch twitched for a moment and then tried to lure him off with a false and teeth-lacking smile.

"What do you mean, noble Sire? I have nothing to hide from you."

Severus could tell a lie when he spotted one, but he knew better than to blurt out with information that would be best kept hidden.  
Something was not right here, and in his current state he was in no shape of defending himself if anything should occur. He decided to bide his time and pretend he didn't suspect a thing. And spite the witch' efforts to throw it off, it was still there, Severus could feel it. He would have to be careful, before he could remove anything he would have to know what it was, and he had to be strong enough. This curse, what ever it was, was something he had to live with for the time being, and in the mean while he would try to figure out who put it there in the first place.

*-*

He was shown to his room in one of the towers, above the vest wing. This was where he would be instructing the witch in potions and tell her about the future, and this would also serve as his living- quarters. As soon as the old woman had left he crashed to bed,  
feeling a weakness he'd never experienced before in his life. It felt like something had attached it self to him now draining his energy like a leach. Severus was believing this would be a very long month.

But he'd had his first glimpse of the stone though, hanging round the witch' neck. At the end of this month she would give the artifact to him and he could, hopefully, return to the present, that if he had regained his strength and managed to do the spell without his wand.  
There were an awfully lot of ifs, and Severus decided not to worry about his return, yet. First he had to figure out what was making him so weak and vulnerable.

He awoke the next morning to one of the greatest shocks of his life. As he opened his eyes he noticed that a man was sitting next to him,  
but that wasn't what stirred him the least. The stranger leaned closer so that Severus could see him more plainly and a gasp of surprise bribed its way up his throat. It was unbelievable! Dark, shoulder long hair, black eyes, a crooked nose and thin lips with a curl on them, he was staring into the face of a man that could have been his identical twin! His twin had a beard, though, and his hair was differently arranged, but other from that...

The other man broke into a great smile as he presented himself:

"Good morning, lord Snape! I'm the Sheriff of Nottingham, and the owner of this humble castle. I beg your forgiveness, I just had to see... My mother has told me so much about you and your striking resemblance of , well... me- by the breakfast-table that I just had to see for my self!" So that's why that old witch had looked so amazed when she'd approached him. But how could this be? How come he had stepped centuries back in time and ended up staying with someone that looked exactly like him? He tried to sit up and felt the weakness hadn't let go. So it was staying for the time being then.

Severus soon understood that the Sheriff was a dangerous man. There was something ..strange.. about him, the way he behaved, who would have sat down by the bed of a total stranger to see how he looked- for crying out loud, and the way he looked at him. Sure, Severus understood that the man would be curious how it could be they looked so alike, he knew he was, but there was something more... When he started his lessons with him in statesmanship he had no rest from his eyes. They followed him everywhere, watched his every step, his every gesture. He often behaved like a spoiled child if there was something he didn't understand and Severus had to bite his tongue several times not to spit out harsh remarks. If this had been back at Hogwarts the dear Sheriff would get a treatment he would never forget. But Severus didn't dare show to much of his natural temper around here. He still had this weird cloud of uneasiness hanging over him and he still hadn't figured out what sort of trap he'd walked into. But he had a strong sensation he shouldn't turn his back on this man.


End file.
